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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24070288">Innocence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkingivy/pseuds/walkingivy'>walkingivy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Grooming, Hurt Daryl Dixon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV Carl Grimes, Pedophilia, Protective Daryl Dixon, Unreliable Narrator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:55:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24070288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkingivy/pseuds/walkingivy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl knows he’s not being told everything. The whole world is falling apart and the dead are eating people, but something going on right here at the farm is somehow still terrible enough to keep from him. At least Daryl is trying to help, even if he’s the one acting strangest of all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Lessons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, what started out as a character study of Carl set during season two in an effort to quell my distraughtness over Carl’s death (I didn’t know I could feel anything after Glenn, but here I am, bawling once again), turned into…whatever the hell this is. I think it was the combination of the thought that Daryl and Carl would definitely have bonded if they’d stayed at the farm longer, given Shane’s bipolar behavior towards him and Daryl’s desire to avoid a repeat of Sophia, and the thought that Carl is canonically hella naive. The more I wrote, the less control I had. </p><p>This is minorly AU in that they don't bring Randall back to the farm and thus end up staying longer. Let’s just say he died when he fell off the roof.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daryl was definitely the coolest person Carl knew. Well, aside from his dad, who only got top billing because he’d come back from the dead after the world ended. Shane used to be the coolest, but he always seemed angry with him now, and he could never be sure if the Shane he would talk to that day would be the playful and loving Uncle Shane he’d always known or the angry, confusing Shane that had become more and more common. Either way, Daryl was now the source of all things cool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was cool because he rode a motorcycle, which Carl knew to be the toughest vehicle to have from watching TV, and he didn’t even wear a helmet, gear which Carl knew was super lame from his friends whenever he was forced to wear one while riding his bicycle. His mom always said that it was more important to be safe than cool, but he didn’t understand why there wasn’t a way for him to be both. Motorcycles were even scarier now than they were before because you weren’t protected if a Walker came out and snuck up on you, which seemed easy to do because motorcycles made a lot of noise which drew Walkers in and hid the sound of their growling. But Daryl never looked scared about getting on his bike; he never looked scared of anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl was cool because he used a crossbow. Carl didn’t know if it was a hard weapon to use because he hadn’t even gotten the chance to hold it, not to mention fire the thing, but he still liked it best of all the weapons he’d seen. Guns were definitely great, but they were super loud, and everyone was always talking about needing more ammo. Knives and blades were good, but required a closeness that was terrifying to be effective. Daryl could use all of them really well, but the crossbow was definitely the best option, Carl thought, because it was silent and sharp as a knife, but had the range of a gun and the bolts could be reused over and over again, so ammo wasn’t an issue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl was cool because he knew everything about the woods. He knew how to recognize and find an animal just from their footprints. He knew how to kill an animal, gut it, skin it and cook it, and even though Carl thought it was pretty gross, the fact that Daryl never once threw up meant that he was tough. He never, ever got lost and could find his way back to camp even when it was dark. Best of all, knowing all this stuff about the woods was turning out to be way more important than Carl had ever thought it could be growing up because it was helping them all survive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl was cool because he was mysterious. Sometimes, he would get angry and let loose a string of curses that Carl was absolutely forbidden from repeating, but mostly Daryl kept to himself and kept his mouth shut. As a result, no one seemed to know anything about him except what they saw him do and the assumptions they made about his reasoning for doing those things. Daryl didn’t seem to care much for their assumptions, but he also made no effort to correct them, either. Carl didn’t understand him at all. He didn’t seem to like anyone in the group, nor did he seem to need anything they provided for him, yet he stayed with them and worked hard to keep them fed and protected, even after they’d lost Merle. Carl was also pretty sure he hadn’t said so much as one word to either himself or Sophia, but he ended up searching for her longer and harder than anyone else, almost as long and hard as Carl would have if he hadn’t been shot and stuck in bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was because of all of this that Carl was shocked and excited when Daryl approached and addressed him as he sat by the empty firepit pretending to read the book his mom had given him for homework. “You busy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Carl said immediately, sitting up straighter and tucking the book away. He could count on one finger the number of times Daryl had talked directly to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m goin’ out to check my snares an’ maybe do a little huntin’. That somethin’ you’d wanna come along for?” Daryl’s tone wasn’t exactly friendly, but Carl thought it might have been as friendly as he’d heard him yet. This was in sharp contrast to the lethal glare he was sending over Carl’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl shifted and looked behind him to where Jeff sat chatting with Glenn outside a tent, laughing loudly and frequently. Carl liked the newest member of their group and not just because he was offered a permanent place with them after saving Glenn and Maggie’s lives on a supply run gone wrong. Jeff told great stories, and he listened to Carl like his thoughts mattered and he wanted to hear more. But Daryl seemed to have a great distaste for Jeff, stomping around angrily and keeping up a foul temper since he came onto the farm a few days ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Definitely.” Carl agreed, thrilled that he would get to see more of what Daryl did and maybe learn some of it himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Kay.” Daryl mumbled, looking around until he spotted Carl’s dad. “Gotta go ask permission.” Carl snapped to his feet and followed the hunter, which was probably not what Daryl wanted, but Carl was prepared to beg if his dad was on the fence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad looked up without any prompting and gave them both a half smile. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl wiggled on his feet before taking a step closer, answering before Daryl could even make a sound. “Daryl said he’d take me hunting with him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That so?” Daryl nodded as his dad chuckled. “Funny. Jeff offered to take him out this afternoon. It’s going to be very helpful having two people who can hunt around.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl’s face pinched up and he curled his hands into fists, but he sounded calm when he responded. “Nah, he should go with me. We’re both still healin’, so we can go slow an’ stick close. We’ll check the snares, practice trackin’, maybe work on knots. Then Jeff can concentrate on huntin’ ‘stead of teachin’ when he goes out later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makes sense. That work for you, Carl?” Carl nodded vigorously, thrilled that his dad had been so easy to persuade. “Alright. You take it easy out there, and you let Daryl know if you’re not feeling well so he can bring you back. Don’t push too hard or you’ll take longer to heal.” Carl nodded, so his dad turned to Daryl. “Got a backup?” Daryl smoothly pulled out a gun from his waistband, point downward, before stuffing it back in. Carl’s dad nodded in approval. “Keep him safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s my priority.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The response was met with more approval, so Daryl and Carl turned and headed towards the treeline, stopping briefly when his dad called out, “And I don’t think he’s ready to learn a crossbow just yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl made a dismissive ‘tch’ sound before he continued on his way. Carl figured it was unlikely that Daryl would let him so much as look at his beloved crossbow too eagerly and the demand to keep it away from him was entirely unnecessary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl was surprisingly thorough in his instructions regarding the snares and answered all of Carl’s questions with a patience no one would have suspected him of. He explained in lengthy sentences as he demonstrated where the snares were placed and how that location was chosen. He talked about how frequently they should be checked and the best methods of removing animals they caught. He demonstrated how to properly reset the snares and what to do for maintenance. When he finished and Carl had had his fill of questions and rather unlikely hypothetical scenarios, the boy figured Daryl had talked more to him that morning than he’d said to anyone else in camp put together, which was probably why it was mostly quiet as they looked at the rest of the traps. One had a rabbit that Daryl killed with a quick, efficient snapping of its neck that made Carl feel a little queasy. Another snare looked pretty damaged, which Carl pointed out and received a pleased, almost proud look in return. Daryl sat down beneath a tree and leaned his back against the trunk as he worked to repair it. Carl sat across from him pressed against another tree and watched him work. He was more than a little surprised when Daryl struck up a conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna hold my crossbow?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl didn’t look up from his work, and Carl was baffled by the offer. Was this a test of some sort? “Dad said I wasn’t supposed to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shook his head. “Nah, he said I can’t teach it to ya, not that ya can’t hold it. ’S not even loaded.” Curiosity growing at the odd suggestion but unwilling to lose the opportunity to examine his favorite weapon closely, Carl agreed, taking the bow from Daryl’s extended grip and holding it in both hands reverently. It was heavier than expected, and he nearly dropped it in surprise, but Daryl just looked amused at his brief fumble. “Okay, while I’m workin’ on this, you keep that safe an’ listen for Walkers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Carl agreed immediately, even though he didn’t understand. Daryl wasn’t likely to be so distracted to miss the sounds of a Walker, and he certainly didn’t need Carl to hold his crossbow for him. Was Daryl trying to butter him up? Maybe he was just trying to make Carl feel useful. That made more sense but still seemed unlikely given Daryl’s track record. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence dragged on for a few minutes as Carl looked over every inch of the bow, turning it gently in his hands and admiring the design. Finally, Daryl sighed and set aside the fixed snare. “I’m gonna tell ya somethin’, but ya gotta keep it a secret from everyone, even yer mom an’ dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl looked at him with wide eyes but Daryl just stared at the ground as he chewed on his thumbnail. Carl loved to hear secrets. They always made him feel powerful and special. He wasn’t sure that he should keep secrets from his parents, but he wanted to know what it was, and Daryl wouldn’t tell him if he didn’t agree. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl nodded. “I knew Jeff before. He’s… he’s not a good person. ’S really important that ya stay ‘way from him. Don’t ever go anywhere with him alone. Even if he promises ya somethin’ ya really want. You can tell me, an’ I’ll… I’ll get ya somethin’ just as good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl’s brow furrowed as he thought about what Daryl was saying. He supposed it made sense that Daryl knew him since he hated him from the moment he walked into camp, standing nearly a head taller than everyone else and showing off a muscular physique that easily rivalled Shane’s despite definitely being older. But Jeff had given a different explanation for Daryl’s dislike of him, one that everyone at camp had readily agreed was most likely the case. He’d heard his mom and dad talking about it with somewhat exasperated sighs. “Mom says you just don’t like him cuz he’s gay. Like how you were mean to T-Dog because he’s black.” After the words left his mouth, Carl considered that they might be disrespectful and that Daryl might get angry, but the archer just huffed and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t like that.” He said slowly and clearly. “Don’t matter if he’s gay or not, he’s bad news. An’ I was mean to T-Dog on account of he was part of leavin’ my brother behind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you think he’s dangerous, you should tell my dad.” Carl said confidently. He couldn’t break his promise and tell his dad, but maybe he could convince Daryl that’s what should happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shook his head abruptly, emotions flickering across his face. Carl thought he looked scared, but he dismissed it. Daryl wasn’t scared of anything. “I can’t, Carl. This is what Jeff does. He digs in, makes people trust him. Glenn, Maggie, hell, everyone already thinks he’s a big damn hero. Yer dad ain’t gonna believe me when it’s easier for him to think I’m a homophobe. I ain’t the sort of person people trust, but Jeff is.” His thumbnail was back in his mouth as he released a frustrated sound. “Least with you, I ain’t gotta convince ya I’m right, jus’ gotta convince ya to be cautious enough to keep ya safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re telling me because you think I’m the only one who needs help. I’m not a little kid; I can take care of myself.” Carl thought he might sound bratty, but he was sick of everyone looking down on him. Daryl was cool, and he hated the idea that he might think he was weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t what I was tryin’ to say, Carl.” Daryl looked conflicted, like he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He started again slowly, picking his words carefully. “I was ‘bout yer age when I met him. He was friends with Merle, an’ I thought he was the best thing to ever happen to me. This guy who was older an’ smarter ‘n me thought I was somethin’ special. He was the first person who seemed to care what I had to say. An’ my life was rough back then, so I thought I knew how to take care of myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl stared at one of the coolest people he knew as the man echoed thoughts he’d had himself. “What happened?” His voice was a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got hurt. Real bad.” Daryl admitted, sounding ashamed. He reached into the satchel still strapped across his chest and pulled out a sheathed knife, leaning forward and extending it until Carl took it from him. It wasn’t as large as the one Daryl normally used, but was still impressive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This a secret, too?” Carl asked, pulling at the handle until he could examine the sharpened metal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl nodded. “Yer dad might not like it, an’ yer mom would prolly kill me for givin’ it to ya, but I can’t leave ya defenseless in case somethin’ happens when I’m not with ya. You can come with me the next few days an’ I’ll show ya how to use it. It’s sheathed, so we can find a good place to tuck it under yer clothes so’s no one knows ya got it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what do I… how should I…?” Carl frowned, not even sure exactly what he was asking, but Daryl seemed to understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s gonna try an’ get ya alone, but it might not be obvious. Maybe he sends someone else for ya, or tricks ya into somethin’ ya think is safe. But alone or not, if he does somethin’ or says somethin’ that makes ya feel uncomfortable, or if he touches ya in a way that don’t feel right, ya tell him to stop loud so other people might hear. If he don’t, or if he tries somethin’ else, ya pull that out and ya stab him anywhere ya can reach easy. You don’t threaten him or hesitate, ya gotta surprise him an’ do it straight off. And then ya run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The description of what Daryl wanted him to do drove home how serious the archer thought this was, and it made Carl swallow hard and nod his acceptance. He wasn’t sure he really understood everything Daryl was trying to tell him, didn’t understand what exactly Daryl expected to feel just uncomfortable but somehow warrant being stabbed, but he did understand the instructions and how desperately Daryl felt he needed to follow them. “I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The quiet, sure words looked like they’d yanked all the tension out of Daryl’s body, and he slouched against the rough bark of the tree behind him. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl waited a few more minutes, still clutching Daryl’s crossbow in his lap. Daryl’s eyes were closed, and he looked almost peaceful. Carl was glad that he’d helped to make that happen and determined to follow through on his promises. “Think we can look at tracks now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah.” The hunter stood up and stretched before retrieving his bow from Carl and swinging it back over his shoulder. “We’ve already been out a long time. Can do it tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl messed with the knife he’d been given, shoving it around several places before finally settling on a sideways position inside the band of his pants where he’d seen several people keep their guns. His shirt draped over the location and he shifted so Daryl could see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good.” Daryl praised, resting his hand briefly on Carl’s hat before leading them back towards the farm and their campsite with slow, measured steps.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carl spent a lot of time with Daryl over the next several days learning some hunting tips and safe handling of a knife. He was surprised to find that the silences weren’t uncomfortable and that underneath his gruff, people-hating exterior, Daryl was a bit of a pushover when it came to kids. When they were alone, Daryl would spoil him with apples and mint leaves and caved to Carl’s begging with surprising frequency. He also told jokes that Carl didn’t usually get and deadpanned the punchline to ruin them further, but the occasional attempt was unexpected enough to startle a laugh from the boy anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of Daryl’s lessons on hunting weren’t really lessons and weren’t really about hunting. Instead, he played silly games with him that were all geared towards learning how to avoid getting lost or surviving in the woods. They never talked about Sophia, but she was a presence he knew Daryl felt as strongly as himself. They’d play hide-and-go-seek with dropped hints about cardinal directions that should have felt scary, but didn’t since Daryl never let him wander further than he could protect him. They’d draw a wide circle with a stick and have Carl search for some absurd number of plants or animals he could potentially eat or point out anything that could be dangerous. They’d blindfold Carl, spin him around, walk some distance, spin him again and then try to get him to find his way back towards their camp. He was supposed to use the moss or the sun or the plant life or the incline or any of a hundred indicators Daryl pointed out, but sometimes the hunter would let him get away with just finding his own tracks and following them back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knife lessons were the most exciting, even if Daryl did spend a ridiculous amount of time on safety. Daryl’s satchel seemed to have an endless supply of various vegetables for stabbing purposes that also often doubled as lunch. Carl was then expected to practice the motions on some of the animals they had snared which he didn’t like, but Daryl was quick to vainly try and comfort with reminders that the animal was already dead, and they would appreciate the food later, so its sacrifice was meaningful. The skinning and gutting they practiced together as well, and Daryl didn’t make one comment about the way he threw up the first couple times. When he had good control over the weapon, Daryl showed him a few tricks, but since the knife was a secret, he couldn’t show off to anyone so practicing wasn’t as much fun. After much begging, he was even shown how to properly throw the knife, but it was way harder than it looked, and Carl spent most of the time chasing it down in the underbrush. Daryl didn’t seem to care at all that he wasn’t good at it, saying that it took a lot of practice and wouldn’t be useful most of the time, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl was very frustrated that Daryl wouldn’t let him kill any of the Walkers that stumbled upon them, four in total, even after he praised Carl’s new skills with the knife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No reason to take chances, kid.” Daryl grunted before using his crossbow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite being prevented from killing them, Daryl did expect him to practice his thrusting and stabbing skills on the Walkers’ corpses. Carl refused to do it the first time, but Daryl didn’t act angry or demand that he go through with it. Instead, he just spoke with him rationally as they made their way back to camp. “I get it. That was a person, an’ that makes it hard. But ya gotta practice so when ya ain’t got a choice, you’ll know what to do. You back down when it counts, an’ you’ll be dead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl shrugged as he tried to put his feelings into words. “It’s just… it ain’t even moving. It’s not attacking me, so it’s almost like it becomes a person again. A dead person, but still a person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what ya mean.” Daryl agreed, walking on in silence for a few minutes before deciding his next point. “If it was you, though, an’ you was dead, but could still help someone stay alive, wouldn’t ya wanna do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Carl agreed easily. But he still hesitated when Daryl suggested he practice on the next Walker they came across after the archer took it down. “Do you think my dad would want me to do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Daryl said plainly and immediately as he took a seat opposite of the boy, the Walker sprawled between them. “I don’t neither. But it’s not ‘bout what we want anymore; it’s ‘bout what we need. Yer dad wants to protect ya, wants to keep ya ‘way from danger. But he can’t. The whole world is dangerous now, so ya need to be able to protect yerself. I’m askin’ ya to do this so’s you’ll know how hard to go to get at the heart or get through the skull. Ya gotta get a feel for angle, speed, balance… If ya done it some, if ya know what it feels like, yer gonna do better when it counts. That’s how I’m gonna keep ya safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Staring at the unmoving body on the forest floor, Carl let the words settle. He took several deep breaths before plunging the knife downward. Daryl praised him for practicing and didn’t say a word about how he threw up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he wasn’t with Daryl in the woods or being tasked with chores or being drilled on gun safety with Shane, he stuck close to his mom and dad, and sometimes Glenn or even Shane and watched Jeff from a distance, trying to see the evil that Daryl insisted lurked within the friendly man. He didn’t really see it, but sometimes he thought he might have sensed it somehow. Maybe that was just him trying too hard. But he did trust Daryl, and he did see how Jeff gravitated towards him and made attempt after attempt to go places alone with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl reported in to Daryl on Jeff’s attempts, like he had been recruited as some sort of spy. He didn’t get the praise he’d been hoping for. Instead, Daryl just looked vaguely sick to his stomach and reminded him how important it was to follow his instructions. It was pretty disappointing given all the things Jeff kept offering him that he was supposed to turn down. Jeff offered to take him out hunting a few times but he said he’d gone in the morning and was too tired to go again. Jeff offered to show him a tree house he’d found on the property, but Carl insisted that Beth had already shown it to him, even though he wasn’t sure there even was a tree house. Jeff offered to take him to the pond so they could go swimming, but Carl said it was too cold for swimming. Jeff offered to take him horseback riding, but he said that he wasn’t healed enough for that yet. Carl even turned down Jeff’s offer for a candy bar, saying he didn’t like that kind, because he didn’t know what Daryl would think about it. Daryl, it turned out, approved of his decision wholeheartedly and even managed to come up with a candy bar of his own from who knew where to give to the boy instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When all of these attempts failed, Jeff took to a different strategy, joining Carl with whoever his unwitting protector of the day ended up being and carrying on cheerful conversations with occasional attempts to get him to join. The conversations were usually pretty funny, and the attention was so nice that Carl nearly forgot to be wary. It was rare for an adult to want to hear what he had to say, to listen eagerly as he told stories that were mostly true about his classmates and explained why he liked his favorite hobbies. But then Jeff started to put his hand on Carl’s shoulder when they laughed and the boy wasn’t sure what to do. It didn’t make him uncomfortable, not really, except for the way Daryl’s eyes darted over towards the group when Jeff made contact. Plenty of people touched his shoulder. Unsure of what he was supposed to do, Carl just excused himself and wandered over to where Daryl was sitting on a log whittling away at some wood, hoping the archer would give him some instructions. He didn’t, but he did spare Carl a smile before sharing some of the mint leaves he had in his pocket. Jeff didn’t follow, so Carl took up semi-permanent residence beside the hunter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, Carl was starting to think that Daryl might be overreacting to all of this and making a big deal out of nothing when Jeff appeared near them in the woods during a lesson on tracking. Daryl must have heard him approaching because he was on his feet with his crossbow aimed, pushing Carl behind him, before Jeff’s form even became clear. “Hell you doin’ here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff raised his hands, empty with palms facing outward to show he was unarmed. Daryl didn’t lower his weapon an inch. “You gonna shoot me? In front of the kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure they’ll notice if I don’t come back to camp.” Jeff pointed out, still sounding cheerful despite Daryl’s threatening growls. It was the first time that Carl felt like there was something seriously wrong about Jeff, like whatever mask he kept up around camp had been thrown aside when talking to Daryl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl grunted. “I thought you was a Walker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl glanced over at Daryl, noticing how he was tensed up in all of his muscles, and wondered if he actually thought anyone would believe that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff chuckled, and it made goosebumps rise on Carl’s arms. “I’m afraid you might have proven yourself a little too competent for that, Daryl. No one’s going to believe you made a careless mistake like that, especially when everyone already knows how much you hate me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understandable with you comin’ at me all crazy lookin’. Self-defense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll back him up.” Carl stated, puffing out his chest and drawing Jeff’s attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff looked slightly annoyed, but mostly just contemplative. “Yes, I suppose you would. What horrible things has he been telling you about me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shifted his stance over until he was standing in front of Carl. “Didn’t tell him nothin’. Kid just has good sense to know evil when he sees it.” The laugh Jeff produced sent an uncomfortable tingle down Carl’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can see we’re not going to be able to have a reasonable discussion here, so I’ll just be on my way. I figure I’ve got to catch something big since you two hardly bring anything back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl didn’t comment, just shifted in a semi-circle until Jeff had passed them and moved further into the woods. Carl scooped up their stuff and slung Daryl’s satchel over his own shoulder as the hunter directed them back towards camp, crossbow held tightly and at the ready. For once, they were both eager to be at the farm instead of among the trees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Magazine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, everything went to shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl’s dad wouldn’t let him go hunting with Daryl, which he figured had something to do with Jeff from the way the man had been hovering around his parents all morning. There was an overbearing tenseness around the three of them, but Carl kept getting tugged away by Andrea, who was apparently on babysitting duty, before he could get close enough to eavesdrop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff had presented them with a booklet that looked like it might either be a magazine or maybe a comic book, but whatever was in it made everyone look angry and scared. Carl couldn’t see what it was, but a brief flip through the pages was all that was needed before a quiet but furious argument was started. His dad had tucked the magazine away, but the hissing exchanges of words carried on long afterward. Removing it certainly hadn’t ended whatever argument it had started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad left his mom there to continue arguing with Jeff and moved swiftly up to the small campsite Daryl kept by himself. He didn’t hesitate to unzip the tent and crawl inside, which Carl thought wasn’t fair because he was told he couldn’t go into anyone else’s tent without their permission, and Daryl wasn’t around to give it. After a couple minutes, his dad came back out, not bothering to zip the tent and circled the area, picking up several things and looking around before moving to the outside of the small campsite. He looked over Daryl’s bike, rifling through his side bags and making an attempt to open every compartment. Carl hoped his dad would finally talk to him when he finished, but he just swept past with a nod at Andrea and returned to his discussion with Jeff and Carl’s mom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl sighed and finally caved to Andrea’s suggestion that they play cards together. By the time they’d started their third game of Go Fish, Andrea caught sight of some sort of sign and let him jog over to his parents. He was nervous, though he wasn’t sure what it was about, but the curiosity was killing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom and dad still looked angry, but they were doing a pretty decent job of trying to keep their faces calm, which Carl figured meant that they weren’t angry with him. “We need to ask you some questions, and it’s really important that you tell us the truth, okay, Sweetie? We won’t be mad no matter what you say, but you’ve got to be honest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl nodded at his mom, his eyes wide, and waited for the questions. His dad took over. “What do you do with Daryl when you go out together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl furrowed his brow. He figured this must have something to do with Daryl since they were looking through his stuff, but he didn’t know why they were so angry. Did they know about the knife? They couldn’t or they would be mad at him, too, right? Carl shrugged. “What we said we would. We check the snares and fix ‘em up. He shows me how to track and not get lost in the woods and what you can eat without getting sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad was nodding along, but his eyes were pinched up still. “Has Daryl ever said things or did things that made you feel uncomfortable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was that word again. Carl was starting to wonder if maybe there was another definition for the word that he didn’t know about because everyone seemed to be using it like it meant something. His mind jumped to having to stab the Walker. That had been uncomfortable, but it was a secret. Carl frowned as he thought. “I’ve been skinning some of the animals we catch in the snares. I puked at first, but I don’t anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom frowned and sighed, but she didn’t comment. His dad glanced at her before turning back to Carl. “Has he ever touched you or asked you to touch him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick.” His mom said disapprovingly. His dad just shrugged, and turned back to Carl. Neither of them seemed happy about the question, but they also looked like they were expecting an answer. Carl wondered if touched meant something different, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” It came out sounding like a question, which made his parents look even more concerned than his thoughtful silence. Carl rushed to assure them that he was being honest. “I mean, he pushes on my hat sometimes. And he pokes my back if I’m going too slow. Pushes my feet if I’m standing wrong.” Carl ran through the other half of the question. Had Daryl ever asked Carl to touch him? The question was laughable because Daryl didn’t like to even be near people, but he didn’t laugh because he thought he might get in trouble if he did. So, he just stated the obvious. “I don’t think he likes it when people touch him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad finally leaned back and out of his space, some of the tension seeping out of him. “Well, there you have it.” He declared, turning to his mom and Jeff. “Maybe this stupid thing is just a misunderstanding.” He tapped over his shirt where Carl knew he’d stowed the magazine. He wanted to know what was on it that had started this whole terrible day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or maybe we were just lucky and caught it early enough.” Carl’s mom suggested, looking more relaxed but still frustrated and sick to her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could be grooming,” Jeff commented, making his continued presence known after keeping quiet during his conversation with his parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think Daryl’s been grooming him?” His dad asked, the pinched look returning full-force. If Carl was confused before, he was doubly confused now. Grooming? Daryl could hardly keep himself clean, why would they think he was cleaning Carl? More to the point, why was it suddenly a bad thing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl’s mom sighed again before asking, “Honey, has Daryl ever showed you anything… odd. Like, pictures or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he ever asked you to go into his tent with him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Carl couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his tone at how much closer his parents thought he was to Daryl than what he actually was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he ever gone with you when you had to go to the bathroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl shrugged. “He stands watch if I’ve gotta go when we’re in the woods, like dad usually does.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad stalled the questions his mom was asking but she looked more relieved than put out. Carl couldn’t figure out what they were trying to get at. It felt like they were hinting around something instead of just saying it. But his dad was finally asking questions that seemed to get at whatever they were looking for. “Did Daryl ever give you anything special that he didn’t share with anyone else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. We had some apples and nuts and mint leaves. And he gave me a candy bar once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he ever tell you to do something that you knew I wouldn’t want you to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl stared at his dad, unsure what to say. Daryl had asked him to stab that Walker even after they agreed that his dad wouldn’t have wanted him to. But he said it was to help him learn to protect himself. If he talked about that, then he’d have to talk about the knife and that was a secret. He didn’t know what to do. He was supposed to be honest, but he made a promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking increasingly concerned, his dad tried to mask it by acting supportive. “It’s alright. You’re doing fine. Did Daryl ask you to keep anything a secret?” Carl hesitated before nodding, hoping Daryl wouldn’t be in too much trouble for it, after all, he’d been trying to help. “You need to tell us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl shook his head emphatically. “I promised!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. We’re your parents. You shouldn’t keep secrets from your parents.” His mom soothed, but Carl still shook his head, hyper aware of Jeff’s presence. He definitely wasn’t going to spill the beans when he was standing right there. He didn’t want to break Daryl’s trust in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom kept pushing, and Carl tried not to cry because it felt so awful to be torn both ways. His dad stopped her before he could start sobbing. “It’s okay. I don’t think it changes anything. Carl can tell us when he’s ready. We need to figure out how to handle this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following conversation was apparently one of the many ones that adults had and children weren’t allowed to participate in because he was exiled to the house and told to help Maggie with her chores. Normally, he liked Maggie and wouldn’t have minded. She always gave him specific instructions that were easy to follow, even if he’d never done the task before. Today, Carl was itching to get away from her. He wanted to be out in the woods with Daryl, or at least be able to hear what his parents were talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching into the waistband of his pants, Carl felt the comforting presence of his knife and wondered if he should have just told his parents about it. They said he shouldn’t be keeping secrets from them, but sometimes that had been okay in the past. Like, when his dad wanted to surprise his mom for their anniversary. He supposed you were only supposed to keep secrets if they were good secrets. But how was he supposed to tell them apart? The knife felt like a good secret now that he had it and felt comfortable using it, and even if it wasn’t the good kind of secret, he figured Daryl would get in even more trouble if he mentioned it, and his parents already seemed furious about the thin booklet of papers they’d found. And the other secret? Daryl was probably right to keep that one since it didn’t seem like anyone was going to believe him over Jeff. It wasn’t fair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was nearing dusk when Daryl appeared out of the tree line, a large animal slung over his shoulders. He hadn’t caught anything large in a while, which Carl realized was probably because he was spending all of his time working with him. It looked like he’d spent the day trying to make up for it by catching a deer and hauling it back for them. Upon seeing him, Carl volunteered to take the compost out to the heap, and Maggie thanked him with a smile, even though it wasn’t quite full yet. Carl raced through the task, dumped the bucket onto the porch and carefully tried to sneak around camp to reach Daryl. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, maybe apologize, but his dad reached the hunter first as Daryl sat and worked on preparing the kill, so Carl had to slink in quietly behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl couldn’t see the expression on his father’s face, but he imagined it was a sight to behold with the way Daryl jerked suddenly to his feet upon seeing his approach. He moved away from his work until he was in a clear patch of grass and shifted his footing to something more defensible. Carl wondered if he wasn’t about to witness a fight break out. Daryl looked prepared for it, and his father was clenching his fists like he was about to start something or maybe grab hold of his Python. Instead, he demanded that Daryl drop his knife and the archer obediently tossed it to the side before very slowly dragging out his gun and handing it over, leaving himself unarmed as Carl’s dad drew closer and threw some paper at him. Carl thought disarming was odd, especially when his father looked so very angry and Daryl wasn’t one to leave himself vulnerable, but supposed it was like when he’d blurt out everything he thought he’d done wrong before his parents could accuse him. Cooperation often became the best option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hell is this?” Daryl growled as the confused look at Carl’s father quickly gave way to a disgusted look at the magazine that had started this whole mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You tell me.” His dad’s voice was quiet but threatening. “It was found in a compartment on your bike.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it ain’t mine!” Daryl shouted angrily, every bit the impulsive redneck his mom had told him to steer clear of at the quarry as he looked like he was going to take a swing before throwing the papers and folding his arms across his chest to keep himself from doing it. “I ain’t into that shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why the hell was it with your things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck if I know, but I ain’t like that. Ask Carl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. And that’s the only reason I’m standing here having a discussion with you instead of roasting marshmallows over your burning corpse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl coughed at his response, surprised, but not looking particularly offended or scared despite how scary the imagery was. The suggestion made Carl’s breath catch in his throat, and he was suddenly terrified that he’d somehow started something much bigger than he could control. Daryl did, however, alert Carl’s dad to his presence because the other man suddenly whirled around and sought his face out in the bushes. Carl gave up his hiding place and ran for Daryl, stopped partway by the strong arms of his father as he was held back. He didn’t let that prevent him from apologizing. “I’m sorry, Daryl. You did so much for me, and I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah.” Daryl refuted with the small smile he usually broke out when he thought Carl was being silly. “It wasn’t right fer me to ask ya to keep secrets, ‘specially from yer parents. I’m in trouble cuz of my own bad decisions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The adults seemed to be communicating over his head with just their eyes, and then his father was sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair, managing to look both tempered furiosity and dim hope. “You get why this looks bad, right? Why I can’t...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl grunted an affirmative even though the former cop hadn’t even finished his idea. “But I would never… I was tryin’ to protect him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, just finish up your deer and then stay in your tent. We’ll talk in the morning after I’ve had a chance to calm down and think for a while. I suspect you’ve got a lot to say to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl wasn’t sure if it was his dad’s expectant and angry tone, but Daryl suddenly looked exhausted. “Yeah,” he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Carl let himself be tugged away and walked down to his own tent, annoyed that Daryl had given up his position instead of letting him finally hear what was actually going on. He just knew that that conversation would have gone down very differently if he hadn’t been outed. Everyone was overly friendly with him around the campfire, which would normally have been great, but no one was willing to answer any of his questions, so it was mostly just frustrating. He ate his dinner and then went to sleep early just so he wouldn’t have to deal with everyone acting weird around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a loud thunk outside his tent that drew Carl out of a heavy sleep. His mom was resting beside him, but he could see several outlines gathered around the campfire still so it probably wasn’t that late. There were the sounds of a scuffle going on nearby, but no one was moving towards it, so Carl doubted any Walkers had gotten close enough to start something. Plus, someone was on watch, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just going to let him stay here? With us? With Carl?” Shane was growling, obviously trying and failing to keep his voice down. He must have just gotten back from his run. That meant T-Dog and Glenn would be back, too. “Are you nuts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad’s voice was strained as well, and Carl figured they were probably wrestling each other. His mom rose and slunk out of the tent, carefully trying not to wake him, and headed towards the fight, but it sounded like it was over before she even arrived. “I’ve talked with Carl. I’m not gonna just shoot him when he hasn’t done anything. I want to hear what he has to say before making a decision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two men were panting for breath now as they argued several feet away. “And you think he’s going to tell you the truth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I trust my gut, and my gut says that there’s more to this story. Carl’s safe tonight. Would have handled it before you got back, but Carl snuck up on us and was eavesdropping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He say anything when you brought it up earlier?” Glenn’s voice came through now that the worst of the argument dissipated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just that it wasn’t his.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Shane’s voice was laced with disdain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, to be fair, that is Merle’s bike, not his.” Dale contributed, always trying to consider other options.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “That’s a good point,” T-Dog added. Despite their rocky start, T-Dog didn’t say much about Daryl that was uncomplimentary these days, not since Daryl saved his life twice on the highway. “And they’ve been going out hunting together for a while now, why wait?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the sort whose minds you can make sense of.” Shane snorted, not sounding any calmer than when he was fighting with Carl’s dad. “If you’re not gonna kill him, we should just cut him loose, somewhere far away. This ain’t the sort of thing we can just pussyfoot around. Imagine if he had found Sophia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave my daughter out of this.” Carol hissed furiously, somehow managing to cow Shane with her anger despite her size. “And leave me out of it, too. You’re wrong about him.” There were the sounds of Carol walking around, and Carl thought she was probably going back to her tent and staying out of the conversation. He wished she’d stay and defend Daryl. He wanted to be out there defending Daryl, but he knew that the moment he exposed himself as awake, the conversation would stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few solid minutes and the faint sound of a zipper running, Carl’s dad sighed. “Look, I didn’t bring it up to put it to a vote here. I just figured that the more eyes on Carl, the better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate to be the one to bring this up, but how old’s Beth?” Andrea asked. “And should we be telling Hershel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure Daryl even knows her name,” Dale pointed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re all going to get some sleep,” Carl’s dad instructed, sounding exhausted and frustrated. “And deal with this in the morning. Andrea, Dale and Jeff each have a turn on watch and will keep an eye on Daryl’s tent as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite sounding like that was the last word on it and everyone shifting towards their own tents, the conversation continued in low, heated words just outside Carl’s own tent. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, man.” Shane grumbled. “Is there anything Daryl could say that could erase all the doubt in your mind? There sure as shit isn’t anything that would make me feel comfortable keeping him around. He’s gotta go, one way or another.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shane’s right,” his mom agreed. Carl’s heart thudded, tears prickling in his eyes. How had everything gone so wrong? “I don’t think I could feel comfortable again, no matter what he said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl’s dad sighed. “And if he’s actually innocent? We condemn him out there to try to survive alone because of something that isn’t even true?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’d protect </span>
  <em>
    <span>Daryl</span>
  </em>
  <span> over your own son?” Shane accused, and Carl ground down on his urge to shout out that they were all being ridiculous. Daryl wasn’t a threat to him. He’d done nothing but protect him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Of course not. I’m just as angry as you. But he’s saved all of our lives, yours included, and I think we owe it to him to hear what he has to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Uncomfortable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, Daryl was gone. There was a resigned disappointment on his dad’s face that Carl hated perhaps more than any expression he’d seen him make. Daryl didn’t leave on purpose, of that Carl was certain, no matter what everyone else was saying. He’d seen Daryl’s face. He knew that Daryl had fully intended to come clean in the morning, and he’d been so sure that the explanation given to his dad would fix everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl bugged Glenn until he spilled the beans because Glenn was the weakest link when it came to secrets. Apparently, Daryl had disappeared during the night with his bag and most of his gear, aside from his tent, as well as his weapons. No one on watch had seen him leave, but he was the stealthiest of the group, so Carl wasn’t really surprised.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane was the easiest to pick out because he was yelling, and Carl followed the sound of his voice, careful not to be seen by any of the adults who would undoubtedly send him away. “-goddamn confession of guilt, if I’ve ever seen one!” Carl kept his whole body behind a tent so as not to be outed this time, but he could clearly hear every word of the conversation zipping around the campfire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we sure he’s not planning to come back? He left his bike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it doesn’t look good, at any rate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus. This is such a fucking mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it really matter? We were going to send him away, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, far away from here. Not armed, dangerous, and prowling the woods somewhere near our camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if we assume he was guilty of that behavior, it doesn’t make him violent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you trying to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>Daryl</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t violent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough!” Carl’s dad raised his voice to quell the argument between their whole group. “Jeff, can you track him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could try. I’m not sure I’d have much luck, to be honest. I don’t know what direction he went, and he knows how to cover his tracks.” Carl’s heart soared. He didn’t like or trust Jeff, but he was a hunter, too, and maybe they could bring Daryl back. Once he was back and told his story, everything would be okay again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His best option would be to head to the highway, get another vehicle and leave.” That tone was just as resigned as his eyes had been earlier, and Carl wanted to shout at his dad that this whole thing was absurd. Daryl would be back any minute now. “If we find signs that he left that way, there’s not a lot we can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should’ve handled this last night. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can talk about that later,” his dad bit back. “Lori, stay in the house with Carl for now.” Carl couldn’t stay to hear any more. He had to sneak back into the house before his mom found out he’d escaped.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daryl wasn’t found and he didn’t come back that day or the next and any attempts to track him were fruitless. Things quickly returned to normal except that Shane and his dad were constantly at odds. They bickered over everything, like his parents had on their bad days. Shane was furious about what had gone down with Daryl, and Carl was secretly glad that Shane hadn’t been around for most of that day or he might not have stopped himself from shooting the hunter as his dad had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the third day, Jeff offered to take Carl up to check the traps. He presented this idea to his parents first, like Carl didn’t really have a say, and argued that maybe doing what he was enjoying before could give him a chance to recover. Carl flat out refused in a manner that his mom called rude and made him apologize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff just laughed it off. “Just a thought. The offer still stands if you change your mind later, assuming your parents are alright with it, of course.” He nodded to his parents, adjusted the rifle on his shoulder, and headed towards the woods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl’s mom frowned and turned to his dad and lowered her voice. Carl figured he wasn’t supposed to hear, but they should have left if they wanted privacy. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. He’s still out there, somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the feeling, but I don’t think it’s actually an issue. Those people operate in secrecy. The secret’s out. Daryl’s not going to come back. Normalcy may be just what Carl needs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his best efforts, Carl burst into tears. He wanted to kick and punch, but he knew that was a step too far, so he settled on stomping at the ground. “Daryl’s coming back! He wouldn’t leave me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daryl… he wasn’t who we thought he was, okay? He’ll be fine on his own, but we’re safer without him. Jeff can take you out and do the hunting you liked doing.” His mom attempted to comfort, resting a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off angrily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Carl screamed, uncaring that he’d drawn the eyes of everyone in camp and they’d all see that he was crying. He knew he sounded like a baby, and he didn’t even care anymore because with Daryl gone, there wasn’t any need to appear cool. “I hate Jeff! I hate him! Daryl said-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carl, I get that you liked spending time with Daryl and you two had fun together, but not everything he said to you was true. Jeff hasn’t given us any reason not to trust him. He even stuck his neck out for Glenn and Maggie when he didn’t even know us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad’s tone was sharper and frustrated, and Carl knew he was bordering on punishment, but he didn’t care anymore. Someone had to defend Daryl when he wasn’t there to do it for himself. “Daryl was right! You were never going to believe him! All because of that stupid magazine. Jeff’s probably the one who put it in Daryl’s stuff, anyway. He wanted Daryl gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick opened his mouth and Carl expected more berating on how he should be more respectful, but he slowly cocked his head and frowned. “What exactly did Daryl say about Jeff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl shrugged and bit his lip. Daryl said it was a secret, but he also said he shouldn’t have told him to keep the secret from his parents. Besides, Daryl wasn’t even here. Maybe he could get his dad to understand and then everyone would stop being mad at him. “He said he knew him a long time ago, when he was a kid, and that’s how he knew he was a bad man. But he said y'all already thought he was a… a homophone, so no one would believe him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father’s face was impassively blank and Carl had no idea if his message had had any sort of impact at all. He’d broken his promise and his dad </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t going to do anything about it. A few people were talking in low murmurs, and Carl realized he hadn’t been quiet and they all probably heard him. Once again, he was unintentionally doing things without even knowing what. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrea and Carol were both looking at his dad and started speaking at once, but he just shook his head stiffly. “We’re not going to have any luck looking for either of them when they’re both good at hiding their tracks. We wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what if -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick shook his head quickly and ended the question. “Carl, I want you to stay in the house for the rest of today. See if you can help out with any chores.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl stalked off towards the house, fuming. They weren’t going to do anything. Daryl was out there by himself thinking no one believed him or trusted him, and Jeff was out there, too, and what if they found each other? Jeff had hurt him before, was Daryl even safe? But his dad wasn’t willing to go because he didn’t know how to track. Carl halted just inside the front door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew how to track, Daryl had shown him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> could find Daryl and bring him back before Jeff even got back from hunting, and then they would all be safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sneaking away was easier than he’d anticipated. No one in the house knew he was supposed to be inside and everyone in camp thought he was in the house. All he had to do was skitter around the outside, give the camp an extra wide berth and slink into the treeline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl had enough practice finding his way now that it was easy to determine which direction the highway would be. He’d head in that direction first, see if he saw any signs of Daryl. His dad had gone up this way to search on that first day, but Carl knew what land Daryl favored, where he felt safest, what locations he’d lay down traps. If he found any of those, he’d be further along in finding their missing hunter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a little eerie to be back in the woods without Daryl’s protection, but Carl knew he could do it. He had to do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl had just reached the creek when he remembered the small church with the automatic bells. It was a bit too obvious of a spot for Daryl to stay if he didn’t want to be found, but Carl didn’t really believe he’d run away in the first place. Maybe he was camped out there waiting for Carl. He’d explain why he’d left, and maybe he’d even explain about the magazine, and everything would be okay again. Carl shifted direction and started towards the church. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An unsettling feeling crept up his spine, and Carl looked behind him again and again, certain that a Walker must be sneaking up on him. Daryl said that the forest got really quiet when the Walkers came by. The birds would stop singing and the small animals would hide. The birds were still singing but the feeling remained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, as Carl spun back forward, steely arms came around him in a crushing grip. There was no growling, no clawing, but Carl didn’t need those clues to piece together what he already knew. Jeff had gotten ahold of him. While the strength of his father’s arms had always been a source of comfort, this new unbreakable grasp was terrifying. Writhing and struggling against him didn’t seem to do anything at all. Jeff picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing, putting an uncomfortable pressure on Carl’s stomach and ignoring the way he kicked and protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff’s steps were sure, and he was whistling quietly as he traveled the remaining distance to the church, flinging open the door, and kicking it shut with his foot. “Honey, I’m home!” He declared loudly before stomping down the aisle and dropping Carl unceremoniously in front of the altar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl hissed as the careless movements aggravated his healing injuries and added new sore spots. He quickly gathered his wits and looked around. For the briefest moment, he was glad for Daryl’s presence. Carl felt vindicated that Daryl hadn’t left him, and there was a reason for his sudden disappearance. And then the full reality of their situation sunk in. Daryl was sitting a few feet away, dressed only in a filthy white wife-beater and a pair of boxers, arms tied behind him and ankles tied in front. He was gagged as well, so his only response to Jeff’s announcement was to scowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank God for unwarranted bravery in little boys! I was sure I’d missed my shot with this one.” Jeff declared, cheshire grin cracking his face. “You’ve been great for the trip down memory lane, Daryl, but you just don’t have the same appeal you used to. But as I’m a generous person, I’ll let you watch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl sat perfectly still, eyes wide, as Carl learned two things he wished weren’t true. One, Daryl was capable of fear, terror and panic, all of which were plainly written on his face as he was frozen into inaction. And two, a simple touch could definitely be uncomfortable enough to warrant a violent response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop!” He all but shouted as Jeff ran a hand up the inside of his thigh. He didn’t know if it was the sort of touch that would have made him terrified had someone else been doing it, but knowing how Jeff had hurt Daryl and set him up to make everyone angry at him made him hate Jeff and that feeling was making every contact unbearable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff ignored the command, hand groping even further upward as Carl tried to push and shove him away. It didn’t have much effect. “Did you even consider telling them about me?” Jeff asked, twisting to look over his shoulder at Daryl. “I was expecting it the moment you came back from hunting that first day. I saw that you recognized me and there was that exact look of terror and anger you’re wearing now. I didn’t recognize you at first, but then I heard your name, and I could see it all over again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl recited Daryl’s instructions through his head. He’d told him to stop but he hadn’t, so Carl was supposed to stab him. He didn’t know if he could. Did he even have his knife? He shifted and wiggled away enough that he was supine and felt the unyielding pressure against the small of his back. Jeff hadn’t thought to check if he had a knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you can enjoy the fact that this is happening because of your pride. Little Carl is going to experience a whole new world. And I wouldn’t suggest you try and stop me with what little movement you’ve got. If I feel threatened, I might just break an arm or a leg, hell, maybe his neck when I’m done here. Not like I can exactly go back now anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeff was distracted taunting Daryl, so Carl shifted again and slipped his arm behind himself to withdraw his weapon as quickly as he could. He didn’t give himself any time to think, too scared that he’d miss his chance, and Jeff would kill them both. Carl gripped the handle hard and slashed forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stabbed, feeling the knife slide in smoothly, the thrust exactly as he’d practiced. But this was different, so different. His world was blurry and spinning and there was blood gushing everywhere around him, splattering his face and his clothes and even getting into his mouth. He didn’t know where he’d hit, except that he’d obviously hit him and Jeff was grunting and groaning in a way that reminded him of a Walker. Daryl was grunting, too unintelligible beneath the gag, but his memory filled in the proper instruction. Run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl ran. It was late enough that the sun had already started to set and the darkening sky left the woods so much darker. His vision was still hazy and there was blood in his eyes, but he took off anyway, legs carrying him swiftly away from the terror he’d just caused. When he was panting and gasping for breath, he finally stopped and looked around, quickly realizing he didn’t know where he was. The knife was still clutched tightly in his shaking hand, and he nearly dropped it in surprise. Panic threatened to grab hold of him, but he heard Daryl’s voice in the back of his head, gently prodding him to look for the clues about his location and which way to go. The plants, the incline, the patterns, the red hazy sky above the horizon where the sun was preparing to set. He took more deep breaths and reviewed all his lessons in his head. This time, when he picked a direction, he was sure he was going the right way. He jogged, trying to get back faster, but his legs felt mostly like jello beneath him. He pushed himself. Daryl was still back there and he needed to get help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>T-Dog had his hand on Carl’s shoulder, gently keeping him outside the small building while he watched out for any dangers heading their way, but the front door was still wide open and Carl could see Daryl just by shifting his feet and shuffling slightly to the right. The hunter had managed to barricade himself beneath an overturned pew wedged between a wall and the radiator. Carl had no idea how he’d managed to do it when his hands and feet were still clearly bound, but Daryl was always doing impressive things that Carl would have thought impossible. The furniture might even be leaning directly on him because the space looked too small for his body, but the haphazard shelter was doing its job of keeping the three Walkers away from the hunter curled tightly beneath, one of which he belatedly recognized as Jeff. He couldn’t tell if Daryl was unconscious or dead, but he wasn’t moving at all under the pile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glenn and his dad put down the Walkers before levering the heavy wooden pew off Daryl’s body. He grunted and stirred as Glenn cleared some space and his dad worked the gag loose. Carl sighed in relief at the sign of life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still with us?” Glenn asked with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl squinted up at him, then looked at his dad. “Carl?” His voice cracked and he coughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the sound of his name, Carl dodged T-Dog’s arm and dashed into the room, halting in front of Daryl, unsure if he was welcome until Daryl levered himself up on his knees and dropped his head against his chest. Carl grabbed his head and his shoulder, suddenly realizing he’d been crying. “I’m sorry. I left you. I’m sorry.” Carl rambled, unaware of what he was saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad must have cut the ropes tying his wrists behind him because Daryl’s hands were grasping his shoulders, bloodied rope still dangling from each wrist. “Nah, ya did what I told ya to. Proud of ya.” Daryl’s eyes were red, too, so Carl figured crying couldn’t be that bad in this situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I killed him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl didn’t respond right away, and Carl could see his dad move from behind him after removing the rope from his bound legs and telling T-Dog to close the door and find Daryl’s things. He instructed Glenn to search for anything useful, and then shifted until he was kneeling beside Carl and Daryl. Carl thought he was going to say something, but he just gently pried Daryl’s hand from his shoulder and worked the knife through the rope still knotted there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya didn’t,” Daryl said, his jaw tight. “I killed him after ya left.” Carl looked into his eyes to see if he was lying, but he didn’t know what he saw there. He wasn’t sure he believed the man who’d been tied up and weaponless. Daryl could do some amazing things, he’d found, but he also knew that he wouldn’t have let the man turn and attack him if he’d been the one to kill him. Still, it wasn’t impossible, and he took some comfort in the lie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad had gotten the last of the rope from Daryl and was gripping his arm and his waist in an effort to help him stand. The archer’s movements were stiff and slow, but what showed that he was in pain the most was the way he allowed the help and even leaned in slightly. When Daryl looked stable, his dad placed a hand on the back of his neck, ignoring the way Daryl flinched at the contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for protecting my son.” There was a naked honesty in his voice that Carl wasn’t used to hearing since the dead started walking. Daryl simply nodded at his dad, like all the tension and fights and problems that had arrived with Jeff died with that one comment. His dad turned to take in T-Dog and Glenn, finished with their tasks and a small pile of clothes and tools heaped nearby. He instructed everyone to keep watch outside and make sure their path back looked clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was busy work, but Carl didn’t put up a fuss when he was led outside to wait. He figured his dad was helping Daryl get dressed, but he wasn’t sure why they needed privacy to do that since Daryl was already wearing boxers and an undershirt. If they were talking, it was too quiet to eavesdrop. He hoped his dad wasn’t telling him off for something, but he hadn’t acted like he was angry, just sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl emerged from the cabin in his normal gear and standing tall, but his movements were still stiff and he tolerated his dad’s hand on his arm without the complaints Carl had come to expect from contact. Glenn took the lead, and T-Dog brought up the rear as they cautiously moved through the trees in the dark of the night. Carl thought they probably should have stayed at the church overnight, but didn’t voice the suggestion when all the adults seemed to be eyeballing the building with disgust. The walk back was unbearably slow, but Carl didn’t complain about that either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, when Shane was dead and the farm was gone and his dad and Daryl worked seamlessly with each other, Carl would approach his dad and ask about that night. He knew there were things he didn’t understand, things that he’d missed while the adults frowned and turned their heads. He knew that no one had told him everything, even though he understood that he was somehow at the center of it all. He knew that Jeff was in Daryl’s dreams when the hunter tossed and turned, just as Jeff was in his own dreams as the smiling monster that filled him with terror and dread, but never quite reached him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl would beg his dad to know more, to be told everything so he could help Daryl and pay him back for helping him, but his dad would just smile in a fond yet sad sort of way. He’d cock his head in Daryl’s direction where he wolfed down dinner, and the hunter would feel their eyes and pass the same sad but fond smile their way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t get it, Carl, but it’s because you don’t understand that Daryl is smiling. You’re making him happier right now without even trying.” Carl looked in his eyes with skepticism, but he could tell his dad was being nothing but honest with him, so he just nodded and squashed down the questions that boiled within him. He thought he might get it, in a way, because whatever had happened to Daryl when he was Carl’s age hadn’t happened to Carl, and that was what Daryl wanted most of all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl would smile at Daryl and the archer would nod back. If the questions swirling around in Carl’s head going unanswered made Daryl feel better, then he’d learn to accept that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=====.o0o.=====</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You probably noticed that Carl is ridiculously oblivious to all sorts of things throughout this story, which may seem unrealistic as they pile on. This was not just a plot device and to create that wonderful conflict between gritty events and naive observation, but also because I think Carl starts out extremely naive. I don’t think his age is ever stated, but I think Riggs was like 11 when they filmed the farm scenes (Sophia was stated to be 12). But more than actual age, Lori apparently never gave him the sex talk and he apparently never figured any of that out on his own, so we know that that whole ball-game is a mystery to him. Moreover, growing up in a very conservative area, he was probably only peripherally aware that two guys COULD even be together. Additionally, we all know Lori had to have been a helicopter parent and without the foundational knowledge, predators, pedophiles and rape would have all likely been beyond conception for Carl at that time. A lot of things go way over kids heads simply because they lack a frame of reference through which to process it. He KNOWS Daryl got hurt and that Jeff wanted to hurt him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he understands the nature of the problem.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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